


in winter sunlight

by visionary_cat



Category: Fae Tales - not_poignant, Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Goodbyes, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-20
Updated: 2014-01-20
Packaged: 2018-01-09 08:26:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1143772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/visionary_cat/pseuds/visionary_cat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The trows weren't the only ones that Gwyn owed a farewell to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	in winter sunlight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [not_poignant](https://archiveofourown.org/users/not_poignant/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Game Theory](https://archiveofourown.org/works/915296) by [not_poignant](https://archiveofourown.org/users/not_poignant/pseuds/not_poignant). 



> The fae verse and characters belong to not_poignant. Slight hint of Gwyn/Jack, but not really.
> 
> This missing (and completely headcanoned) scene takes place somewhere in the beginning of Chapter 35 of Game Theory, so this fic contains spoilers up to there.

Gwyn materialized in a burst of light. He found himself blinking his eyes open to snow, cold snowflakes that curled around his eyelashes and drifted into his hair.

“Sorry,” a voice said. “I was just messing around, let me…”

The snow stopped falling.

Gwyn saw Jack Frost perched on a window ledge of the ice palace. He was smiling, a lighthearted smile that reached his eyes, and he waved at Gwyn with the hand that was his carrying his staff.

“You looking for Pitch again?” Jack asked. “He’s in Kostroma.”

Gwyn supressed a wince. He didn’t want to think about his last visit, a visit where he had received Pitch’s well-deserved anger in response to his prodding about the Nightmare King and Augus.

“I was looking for you,” he told the frost spirit. “Can you come down?”

Gwyn felt a wisp of wind breeze downward.  Jack floated on the breeze, landing right next to Gwyn. His blue eyes were watching Gwyn curiously.  “You can come in,” he said, gesturing to his door. “The trows can get something for us, if you like.”

“No, I’m fine. I won’t be here long,” Gwyn said. “I have other matters to tend to.”

Jack looked like he was going to make his offer again, but then he nodded. “Okay. What’s up, Gwyn? Just stopping by for a quick hello or do you need a favor or something?”

“No, I…”  Gwyn tried to get his thoughts in order. He eventually found the words. “Things are changing, Jack. I need you and your people to stay out of whatever might happen. I know that you don’t want to get involved with the fae world again, and that’s fair. But you have the right to know: something’s coming. Some things are coming.”

“Changing?” Jack repeated.

 _Changing,_ Gwyn thought to himself.

The former Unseelie King had been released back to the Unseelie Court. Crielle was planning Gwyn’s downfall. Old Lore had been unleashed into the world. Gwyn had always known that both of the Courts were unbalanced after the war, and it would possibly take a century, two centuries, or even longer to stabilize. But there were so many variables…

“I felt something earlier,” Jack said quietly, interrupting Gwyn’s musings. “It kind of felt as if the Man of the Moon was talking to me, but it wasn’t him. Pitch didn’t feel it. North didn’t, either. But it was something big."

Jack had always been sensitive to magic. Gwyn inclined his head and said, “Yes, that’s a part of it.” He did not mention Augus.

“The kids, will they…?”

“I can’t guarantee that the human world will be completely unaffected by whatever will happen in the fae realms, but I think they will be fine.”

Jack frowned. “That’s good, but it’s going to be bad for you guys, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know,” Gwyn said. He was surprised to hear his voice drop into a whisper. He didn’t know what was going to happen next, for all his plans for Augus’ escape, for all his plans to end the war.

He would accept whatever fate that his mother had in store for him. There was something inside of him telling him that he was done, it was over. Here was the ruin he was waiting for, and here was acceptance relenting into surrender.

Was this how Jack’s freedom felt? Was this how Augus felt once he left the Seelie Court?

Jack studied Gwyn. “You look like hell. Maybe more tired than you were during the war. You’re _worried_.”

Gwyn didn’t reply. He brushed snow off his shoulders, off his arms.

“I have to go,” he said. “Goodbye.”

His voice must have changed at _goodbye_ because the wind picked up around him, like gentle arms that held him back.

“Gwyn,” Jack said, “you’re being so infuriatingly ominous, you know. But I’m not stupid.” His eyes were hard. “You think that something’s going to happen to you, and you might not see me again. I…”

 Jack ran a hand through his hair, and continued, “I guess I should be happy that you remembered me, but you can ask for help, too. You don’t have to sound like you’ve given up.”

Gwyn shook his head. “This isn’t your fight, Jack.”

“We’re friends. I don’t think that matters.”

“No,” Gwyn said. “We’re friends who have already settled the debts between us, so we do not owe each other anything. We have our respective lives and duties. And I know that you don’t want any of this. You went through the war. You can have your peace.”

Jack was silent. The wind died, and to Gwyn’s surprise, Jack nodded.

“Okay,” he said. “I made my promise to stay away, and I’ve been meaning to keep it that way. And I trust that you can handle whatever’s going on. You’re not incompetent. But if you change your mind, I’ll be here.”

“Thank you for understanding,” Gwyn said. The sentence was stiff, hollow, but it was genuine. He had expected Jack’s sympathy, but he didn’t realize how much it would hurt, because Jack was truly one of his few friends and this was a goodbye.

“Hey,” Jack said, and there was the wind again. “Would like you like to stay a little longer? The same offer of coffee, tea, anything.” He had a small, sad smile on his face, a smile that didn’t suit Jack Frost at all.

It was tempting. It would be nice to forget – for half an hour, an hour – wandering around Jack’s palace and feeling the wildness in the walls. He could talk comfortably with the frost spirit about how the other Guardians were doing; he could rest.

“I’m sorry,” Gwyn said. “I can’t.”

“I knew you were going to say that,” Jack said softly, ruefully. “See you, Gwyn.”

A smile flickered on the edges of Gwyn’s mouth.

“Farewell, Jack.”

Gwyn noticed that it had started to snow again.

 

 

When he reappeared back in the Seelie Court, Gwyn touched his mouth, and remembered the cold of Jack’s.

Then he found Augus’ knife. He closed his fingers around the hilt and tried to breathe.


End file.
